Twitter Blues
At first I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or not. The pain in my head felt like a Clydesdale standing one-hoofed on the crown of my skull. A grittiness, like sand, coated my teeth, and my mouth was stuck closed, so dry were my lips and tongue.
I blinked. Ok, so my eyes are definitely open, I remember thinking. Why can’t I see? As my brain grew more alert and wakeful, my stiff neck helped me orient myself. Sitting upright, but I can’t move my hands. Tethered to a chair?
The air smelled of warm plastic and electric circuits. Before me, a light, dazzling, disorienting, awful, and cold, flickered on. I shut my eyes to cut off the harsh brilliance. A swirl of red filled my vision as my heart sent pulses of blood through the lids I’d squeezed tight.
A saccharine voice, mechanical and unfeeling, but also vaguely feminine, spoke. “Twitter User AT ONEWHEELONELL, please open your eyes.” Confusion reigned over me, and I did not open my eyes.
The message repeated. “Twitter User AT ONEWHEELONELL, please open your eyes.”
And if I don’t? My brain asked. I’ve never considered myself a particularly combative sort, but I am stubborn and overly curious.
“Twitter User AT ONEWHEELONELL, open your eyes.”
“No please this time?”
“Twitter User AT ONEWHEELONELL, please open your eyes, or compliance measures will be activated.”
“Are you threatening me?” I chuckled. I didn’t mean to, but it happened. This dream was too weird. The jarring juxtaposition between the manufactured kindness of the pre-generated message and the eerie roboticism of the bits customized just for me; the way the stilted recording kept mispronouncing my last name; the strangeness of being addressed by my Twitter handle; everything about the situation read like a bad SNL skit. Elon Musk would be the host, surely.
“Twitter User AT ONEWHEELONELL, you have demonstrated an unwillingness or inability to comply. Initiating bio-scans.”
My chair vibrated gently, and I peeked just a bit to see a beam of 80s-Computer-Green light pass over me.
The robo-voice continued, “Bio-scans confirm: no significant cognitive or motor function impairment. Twitter User AT ONEWHEELONELL, your unwillingness to cooperate will result in compliance measures in 3 seconds.”
“What does that even mean?!”
“Two seconds.”
“I’m not opening my eyes, you totalitari—
“One second.”
“—an toaster!
Ironically, the spear of crackling thunder that burned through my nervous system made my eyes close even tighter.
“You have ten seconds to comply before the next administration of compliance measures.”
My vision was blurry, and my eyelashes flitted in and out of view from the twitching in my facial muscles. But my eyes were open.
“Please enjoy this dot jiff file selected for you.”
An incoherent animation of a Shiba Inu scattering money to “make it rain” played on a screen that filled my vision. A caption set in the impact typeface read dolla dolla bills and flashed through a seizure of repeating colors.
“What the hell?! What’s going on?” I don’t think I expected an answer, but the reality of my predicament kept clashing violently with the absurdity of it all.
“We care about your Twitter experience. Verified Twitter Blue members have carefully curated content for your viewing pleasure.”
“Let me go! Please!” The memory of electricity pouring through my body made the transition from bull-headed to blubbering quite smooth for me.
“We understand that your freedom is important to you. Unfortunately, freedom is a perk reserved for Verified Twitter Blue members.”
“Oh, go fu—GAAAAAAH!” The malevolent voice administered more compliance measures before I could complete my verbal assault.
“Please enjoy this dot jiff file selected for you.” Another asinine clip began to play.
“It’s pronounced GIF you twa—AAAAAAH”
This bit of flash fiction was a response to a prompt shared by Laura Cooney (@LozzaWriting) on Twitter about the weird changes Twitter’s been undergoing since Musk’s takeover a few months back. I hope you enjoyed!
